


Not That Kind of Post-Horror Movie Girl

by gerardsjuarez



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bullets Era, Ghost Adventures - Freeform, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:42:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerardsjuarez/pseuds/gerardsjuarez
Summary: During a tour in 2003, the band is holed up in a motel room that, more than likely, had seen more Motley Crue after-parties than actual people. To pass away the time before bed, the band ends up switching on the premiere of Ghost Adventures and some* take it more seriously than others*.*some: Gerard*others: anyone other than Gerard
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Not That Kind of Post-Horror Movie Girl

**Author's Note:**

> The long awaited, barely over 1k fic that I usually post before posting a massive one. This one happened because I found out the /lore/ behind the Ghost Adventures TV show and imagined bullets mcr having a good time watching it on a shitty motel couch. The next fic is big and involves more than one band so stay tuned, if you'd like. 
> 
> \- elora

The motel room smelled rank. The moment that the band walked in, they knew it was going to a great night of using shirts as pillowcases and sleeping on top of the covers. Alongside a dusty king-sized mattress was a pull-out couch, fake leather and flaking. Frank wasn’t entirely sure who had managed to make the TV set work or who switched it onto this weird channel meant only for documentary movies but certainly wasn’t complaining.

“What’s this one?” Gerard walked out of the bathroom and plopped down next to Frank, making himself the fourth person squished onto the loveseat.

“It’s called Ghost Adventures.” Otter said, sitting about two feet away from the TV and off to the side, “Came out a few months ago.”

The documentary was actually really well made, Frank thought, flicking ash into a cup that once had coffee in it. They’d managed to gather quite a bit of evidence. There were a lot of dead prostitutes, which he didn’t really like but hey, shit happens, he supposed. He was just getting back into his entertainment coma when Gerard wordlessly bumped his arm. When he looked over, Gerard was staring at the TV, engrossed, his fingers outstretched for Frank’s cigarette. He rolled his eyes and, instead of putting it in his hand, put it in his mouth. Gerard wasn’t really consciously aware that it was happening until Frank’s fingers on his lips startled him.

“Fucks wrong with you?” Gerard scowled at him but took the cigarette.

“Shhh!” Otter hushed him.

Gerard blew smoke from the corner of his mouth, “Suck it.” 

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He retorted, “Now shut the hell up, they just caught something.”

Frank heard Gerard mumble something to himself but otherwise stayed quiet, silently flicking ash off of Frank’s cigarette until he was done, putting a mostly finished smoke between Frank’s lips. Frank didn’t mind, though, and just gave him a side-eye, a smile on his face. Gerard mumbled something again and sighed, relaxing into the couch cushions and turning his focus back on the show. 

“Oh, fuck, why would they sleep in a haunted hotel room? I don’t get it. I get like - for the sake of discovery but you can come for a few hours and then just leave!” Ray gestured toward the screen incredulously.

“Not to be a buzzkill, Raymond, but our room looks pretty similar to that room,” Mikey said and Frank automatically wanted to hit him.

“Shut the hell up.” Gerard said what Frank was going to, “God, you _know_ I’m a pussy, Mikey!”

“Sorry.” He shrugged and looked back at the documentary.

As the investigation went on, he could feel Gerard tense next to him, still glued to the TV set. Frank wanted to distract him from it, get him to loosen up just a bit. They were filming somewhere in the Southwest, they were in the Southeast. They should be fine. The worse crime that happened here was probably a lack of lube. Ugh. Frank tried his best to get back into the show but a slow hand touched his thigh. When he looked over to Gerard next to him, he didn’t seem to be consciously aware of it. Usually, when Gerard tried to play chicken, he had this stupid look on his face that he used when he was messing with Mikey.

But then Otter checked his watch, “Shit! It’s 2 am!”

Fuck. The tour bedtime that they’d set for themselves.

Gerard’s hand quickly retreated to his own person and he stood up, “Alright, who’s turn is it on the mattress?”

“You and Otter hand it last night.” Ray stood up, too, “It’s totally Mikey and I’s turn.”

“And I slept on the floor last night. So I get the couch bed.” Frank called it before Otter had the audacity to claim it. The order went from floor to couch bed to the mattress. Once you sleep on the mattress, you get the floor. Plain and simple. Not really for Gerard, though. He'd fucked up his shoulder jumping headfirst into the mosh pit and took turns sleeping on the mattress and any other form of bedding. 

“Guess that leaves me with the couch bed.” Gerard sighed and went over to where he’d dumped his bag, shrugging on a pair of sweatpants in place of his jeans.

Frank pulled a hoodie over his head and prepared to sleep on top of the sheets. It was hell sleeping on the ground without a blanket. He had planned very poorly. Gerard, however, had a blanket. It was bright neon green and was his most prized possession. Frank watched Gerard approach as the guys slowly turned off the lights, leaving a bedside lamp to navigate 4 am bathroom trips.

When Gerard laid down next to him, he curled up in his blanket, settling in and facing Frank. He opened his eyes after a rather peaceful sigh and the smile quickly faded from his face, “Do you wanna share my blanket?”

“If you don’t mind.” Frank grimaced.

He shook his head and uncurled himself from a ball, wrapping the blanket around the two of them. It wasn’t a very big blanket so Gerard basically had to spoon him in order for the two of them to be comfortable. Gerard settled in close and sighed again, this time Frank could feel it.

“You’re wearing socks, right?” Gerard whispered.

Frank had to muffle his laugh because half of the guys were already asleep, “Jesus, Gerard. Just say no homo.”

“But that’s homophobic.”

“What’s homophobic is your lack of understanding that this is just a blanket.” Frank rolled his eyes and moved so he was facing Gerard.

He could get closer this way and not have to feel Gerard pressed up against his ass. Their noses were almost touching and it seemed that Gerard was thinking the same thing because he leaned forward until they touched, making Frank smile.

“You’re a dork.” He told him and promptly yawned, “Try to get some sleep, Gee.”

Not even 30 minutes later, he was woken up by Gerard.

“Frank. Frank? Frankie, please wake up.” 

“Mmm?” He asked, rubbing at an eye, “‘swrong, Gee?”

“I can’t sleep. I think this room is haunted.” He said and Frank could hear the wobble in his voice.

He reached over and squeezed Gerard’s side, “S’not, Gee.”

“But it feels like it is.” Gerard retorted, “Wake the fuck up, man.”

“What do you want?” He huffed and sat up a bit.

Gerard had a weird look on his face. He did look pretty freaked out though and Frank felt bad for being a tired little bitch. He knew there was a face that Gerard made that could make Frank do anything he wanted but this one was just straight up not good. Frank frowned.

“Come on, man. We can talk in the bathroom.” Frank pushed the blanket off of him and Gerard followed.

The bathroom was infinitely worse from the rest of the motel room but he really didn’t have room to complain. Gerard closed the door behind him and Frank raked a hand through his hair, feeling exhausted but willing to comfort Gerard if he needed.

“Sorry,” Gerard continued when Frank tried to tell him it was fine, “About earlier. On the couch. I didn’t - I wasn’t thinking.”

“My cigarette?” 

“ _No_ ,” he huffed and looked Frank in the eyes, “when I touched your leg.”

Frank blinked at him, “Why are you sorry, dude?”

“It wasn’t - I was just reading too far into a situation.” He shrugged, “That’s all.”

“I still don’t know why you’re sorry. I’m fine with it, man. Ray’s done much worse to me.” He chuckled.

“So you aren’t mad at me for trying to cop a feel?” He raised an eyebrow.

Frank couldn’t hold in that laugh and felt bad once it came out, wincing, “Sorry, just? What? That’s what you were trying to do?”

“Well,” he shrugged again, looking away, “yeah.”

“No offense,” he giggled, “no offense but I’m not some girl you can take to a horror movie and expect to get lucky with afterward.”

“Good thing you’re a dude in my band who watched a horror documentary in a shitty motel with me.” Gerard retorted.

He looked so embarrassed and pissed off and Frank was in _love_ with it. After another chuckle, he opened his arms, “Come here, I can’t look at your pitiful face anymore.”

Gerard told him to go fuck himself but came to him easily. Frank thread his fingers through the hair on the back of Gerard’s head and just let him hold him. They were into the first week of a tour so they weren’t at that stage where they could take affection from their bandmates. There was like this trial to see how long everyone could take being all ‘oh, no dude, wear socks, I’ve got a girlfriend back home’ before they cracked and Ray started making out with Mikey again.

Frank went to pull away but Gerard caught his lips between his own and Frank felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His hands hovered over Gerard awkwardly, eyes open. Quickly, Gerard stepped away, blushing so hard that it had to hurt.

Frank still had his stupid hands in the air where Gerard had been, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Gerard’s voice was almost whiney.

“I thought you were joking,” Frank admitted.

“If it helps, I thought you were being serious.” He gestured lamely to the ground.

Frank swallowed and let his hands fall to his sides, staring at Gerard. He looked tired and disheveled, his long hair sticking up in one spot where he’s been laying down. He especially looked alarmingly young in the strange bathroom fluorescents. 

He just looked like Gerard.

“I was being serious.” He found himself saying the truth, “I don’t care where you touch me.”

Gerard looked up at that, “Really?”

“It’s basically softcore on stage, Gee. I don’t care.” He had a small smile on his face and could most definitely still feel the pressure of Gerard on his lips, “And, uh, I think you should kiss me. Again. For science.”

“For science?”

“Yeah,” Frank grinned when Gerard came over to him and basically backed him against the wall. He grabbed Gerard’s hand and placed it just below his throat, “I wanna see who chickens out first.”

“Not me.”

“Well, it’s not gonna be me.” He lifted an eyebrow just to challenge him even further and was more than pleased when he laughed and traced the base of Frank’s throat with his fingers.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Gerard said lowly and forced his lips onto Frank’s, cupping the side of his face. 

Frank opened his mouth and let Gerard have his way with him, excited knowing that they probably wouldn’t stop until someone tore them away from one another.


End file.
